


For my queen

by Ruta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Devotion, F/M, Feelings, Female Friendship, Loyalty, Missing Scene, Oaths & Vows, Separations, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruta/pseuds/Ruta
Summary: "Regarding my return to the North," she says and crosses her gaze resolutely, "you will not leave with me."Brienne blinks. She must have heard wrong. It cannot be otherwise. "Your grace?"(There is no way that Brienne would have left Sansa unless it was a request from Sansa herself. I didn't like the ambiguity so I fixed it.)





	For my queen

They are discussing their return to Winterfell when it happens again. Lady Sansa seems to want to say something, but then she gives her a sideways glance and stops as if she had an afterthought. Brienne tries not to mind, even if it's not the first time.  
  
Lady Arya has just left and she is about to do the same. There are still many things she intends to do before the scheduled departure for the following day.  
  
She is about to take her leave, but Lady Sansa holds her back.  
  
"Brienne, a word, please."  
  
She nods. "Certainly, my lady." She smiles slightly, bowing her head forward and corrects herself, "My Queen."  
  
In the silence that follows there is a tension that cannot be explained. It has been there since they arrived at King's Landing. She initially believed the cause to be the return to a city she hates. That was what had make her so restless. After the departure of Jon Snow, the impression intensified. Brienne knows the depth of feelings her lady has for him, she knows that saying goodbye to him has broken her heart. She understands what it's like and avoided the subject with tact. (There will be time in the future to heal and lick one's wounds. It is the real victory of peace. Now they have the opportunity to live day by day, to grieve.)  
  
Since the council and the proclamation of her brother as King of the six kingdoms, Lady Sansa has appeared distant and although her smiles are frequent in the company of her sister and brother, when she is alone Brienne has often discovered her intent on watching the sea from the windows in her chambers. Just like now. Her gaze is fixed on the landscape and she has that expression again. As if seeking courage and strength to do something necessary but painful.  
  
When she turns, the usual light of confidence and determination shines through her face.  
  
"Regarding my return to the North," she says and crosses her gaze resolutely, "you will not leave with me."  
  
Brienne blinks. She must have heard wrong. It cannot be otherwise. "Your grace?"  
  
She sees her fold her arms behind her back. She knows her enough to understand what that means. Something cold and heavy takes place in her stomach.  
  
"You've been loyal to me. You saved me in every way someone can save a person. You protected me and you have been by my side until the end. This is the end. I merely release you from your vows, Ser Brienne of Tarth. From this moment forward you are no longer my sworn sword."  
  
"Why?" She croaks, too stunned to feel pain or nothing else but numbness in the extremities, a light nausea, a sort of dizziness.  
  
There is a small fracture in Lady Sansa, a burn in her eyes, but she immediately disguises it. "You served me well. In conscience I should reward you by leaving you free, but that's not what I intend to do. I have a favor to ask you." The cracks disappear and the suffering in her eyes recedes. "That you remain in King's Landing and serve my brother with the same devotion with which you served me. That you becone his shadow, put your sword in his service. That you become his shield. Do it, Brienne, and I may leave the city knowing that I entrust my little brother in good hands, the most honorable that have ever existed."  
  
"I must leave you?" She asks.  
  
Sansa hesitates, then shakes her head. "That's what I want. I need you, I'll always need you, just not by my side."  
  
She keeps herself upright even though her eyes are full of tears. "You will be alone," she whispers.  
  
Her lady and queen smiles, a tiny, sad and tremulous smile. "I will go home," she replies, but doesn't deny the truth of her statement. She will be surrounded by her people, the people for whom she has stood up to queens and kings, refusing to give up, to retreat, to bend the knee.  
  
She bled, she was hurt, but she never bowed, she never broke. With or without a crown, Sansa Stark has always been a queen for her.  
  
Before she can silence instinct, she blurts out, "You're loved and you'll be loved for the rest of your life. Even without your family. I'll do what you ask me." _Even if I hate the idea of leaving you._

With new resolve, she kneels and takes a deep breath before intoning, "I swear to serve Bran Stark with honor, to protect him from his enemies and to obey him. As long as I breathe, I will be his sword and shield."  
  
She raises her head to catch Sansa's eye. Like hers, her eyes are full of tears. Sansa puts her small hand on her shoulder and when she speaks her voice is soft and slow, "You can get up, Ser Brienne of Tarth. You are a true friend of the North and you will never be forgotten."  
  
This is not goodbye, thinks Brienne standing up.  
  
"Have you forgiven him?"  
  
The question catches her unprepared.  
  
"For abandoning you," Sansa explains.  
  
"I knew the kind of man he was and I loved him anyway. It's hard to forgive because it's hard to forget."  
  
She sees a spark of recognition in her, an angry flash. The loss is still vivid, too recent. How it must be to love a man and say goodbye, knowing you can never be together?  
  
She loved a man, a good man who committed dishonorable and heroic deeds, who made mistakes and tried to redeem himself. She loved a man who died.  
  
How it must be to love a man who is alive and to know he is lost, separated from you forever? To know that he breathes and walks on the same land, observes the same sky.  
  
"Did you succeed? Can you think of him with love despite the hate?"  
  
"I was angry and desperate. I never hated him."  
  
The sunset is at its peak, the sun a mass with indistinct contours. It colored the room of orange, casting new shadows on the walls.  
  
Sansa's profile stands out against the dark sky, stern. Howewer Brienne has seen the fragility and insecurities it hides, she knows them as she knows her own. The sea is rough and seems to accompany her thoughts, to reflect her concerns.  
  
"You'll be happy?" She asks. She knows she sounds foolish, but the answer may give her peace. To know that this woman, this dear, strong, brave, kind and smart woman will be happy, in one way or another, calms the storm in her heart. It makes the imminent separation more tolerable.  
  
"I'll be free," Sansa replies after a moment of pondering.  
  
Brienne nods with approval. It is a starting point. She will be burdened with responsibilities, but she will reign with wisdom and justice. The Red Wolf. The Unbowed Queen. And her Lady. Always and forever.


End file.
